Back in Black
by redwesteinde
Summary: Supernatural AU: Trying to break away from their lives as hunters both Chuck and Bryce attend Stanford. Neither knows of each other's past, but when a demon called Azazel comes after Chuck; they hit the road to discover why. Love ensues. Bryce/Chuck.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the bed and the pajamas I sleep in.

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><p><strong>Back in Black<strong>

**Prologue**

Ever since Chuck can remember, he's always just _known_ things.

He can't quite describe how this knowledge comes to pass, not so much like an epiphany but more so like a silent film where a reel of fluttering images seems to overtake his vision for a startling couple of seconds. At first it hurt, felt as though s jack saw was splitting through his brain but eventually, as years went on and the 'flashes' continued, the pain simply receded into s miniscule throb at the back of his mind, one he was more than capable of over looking.

The first time he remembers it happening he was six years old and happy.

His mother and father were both home for once, neither of them away on their respective outings that Ellie liked to call 'hunts' and the before mentioned sister isn't tying him to a chair in the middle of a pretty painted circle ('practice' she giggles over an open book) whose true meaning completely escapes him in his young age. (His family isn't normal, that much at least Chuck is aware, but every time he asks_ why_ they're not normal he always receives the exact same answer. _"We'll tell you when you've turned 8, hon. Just have fun and don't worry until then."_)

It was close to 7 in the morning and far too early by little Chuck's standards, but everyone was gathered around the table sipping on fresh orange juice and even fresher banana pancakes (courtesy of one Stephen Bartowski), laughing at one thing or another but most in particular about Chuck's elaborate stories on what he and his little friend ("Dwarf," Ellie interjects) Morgan have been getting up to in the neighborhood while on summer break.

For the first time in a long time, everyone is present and everything is perfect.

Then Dad flicks a page of his newspaper over and Chuck catches a quick glimpse of an image printed of a crime scene taken somewhere in Colorado and suddenly-

_**Woods. Miners. 1936. Trapped. Hunger. Claws. Cabin. Boy. Blood. Wen-**_

"-digo" he whispers, then promptly passes out.

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><p>Bryce wasn't like other boys, never had been.<p>

He was better, better than better, the best. Good-looking, street-smart, book-smart, athletic with a hundred friends on hand, it didn't matter which school he attended, by the end of the week he ruled it, governed it with a stack full of charm and perhaps just a boat load of gravitational pull.

But for such a popular guy, no one really knew much about him. He'd just be there one day introducing himself at the front of the class (_"Luke Evans"_,_ "Troy Hughes"_,_ "Neal Caffrey"_) and the next he'd have instilled himself so firmly in their lives that they could hardly remember a time when he_ wasn't_ there.

But no one knew where he lived. No one knew where he was from, whether he had a brother or a sister, there was even debate as to whether he had a mother or not, instead of just this phantom father he had mentioned once in passing who never so much as showed up to a parent-teacher interview let alone a track meet.

And what was to know about him was always entirely overlooked.

No one really noticed that 'Nick' never sat anywhere but the furthest corner from the door, somewhere he could see both the exit and the entrance without obscuring his vision of the rest of the room. No one noticed that 'Thomas' never went anywhere without a tube full of salt and 'Philip' never took off his weird looking necklace, not even for swimming practice.

He just arrives at school one day, a complete nobody, and then he's always moving out of town again within a month, whisked away by a stunning black Chevy and a shadow of a man smoking in the drivers seat.

The only thing he leaves behind is the memory of a perfect boy who everyone agrees could only succeed in life, could only go far.

Bryce Larkin is 13 years old, sitting in the front seat of this awful, stifling car and already knows that he isn't going anywhere.

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><p>It's 1998, and although they are states apart, Chuck Bartowski and Bryce Larkin are clutching their still unsealed Stanford letters to their chests possessively, eyes closed tight, just praying for a chance.<p>

Just praying for a future.

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><p><strong>tbc.<strong>

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><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> I am currently without a beta so would appreciate being notified of an misspellings, grammatical errors and just all round butchering of sentences.

I hope you enjoyed the introduction and feedback is always welcome!


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